Fact-checking Is So Boring Compared

If Things Are Going Well I Can Easily Spend Twelve Hours A Day Writing, But Not Writing Writing, Just Thinking And Revising And Taking A Comma Out And Putting It Back In.

When We Humans Speak, We Are Not Merely Communicating Information But Attempting To Make An Impression And Achieve A Goal.

But If I Were Asked To Pick One Constant, One Quality That Seems Dependable, Immutable, Endlessly Available, I'd Say That It Was Intensity. For Nothing In Sicily Seems Withheld, Done Half Way, Restrained Or Suppressed. There's Nothing To Correspond To Say, The Ironic, The Cerebral Remove At Which A Frenchman Might Consider An Idea Or A Question, Or The Scandinavian Distrust Of The Sloppy, Emotive Response.

If We Want To Write, It Makes Sense To Read—and To Read Like A Writer. If We Wanted To Grow Roses, We Would Want To Visit Rose Gardens And Try To See Them The Way That A Rose Gardener Would.

People See Everything Through The Lens Of Their Obsessions.